Are you, are you, coming to the tree?
by It.Is.Real
Summary: Dean Winchester is a Career tribute, trained his whole life to take part in the Hunger Games. On the day of the Reaping, Dean volunteers because it is expected of him. Dean is the best fighter. Then he meets Castiel at the Capitol and everything changes.
1. Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

******Title: Are you, are you coming to the tree?******

******Rating: NC-17 {later chapters}******

******Word count: 2000+******

****Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Balthazar (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Michael (Supernatural), Chuck Shurley, John Winchester****

**Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel**

**Warning/ Triggers: Oppression and Death [in later chapters]**

**Spoilers: None**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything nor am I making any money out of this. Please don't sue me.**

**Summery: Dean Winchester is a Career tribute, trained his whole life to take part in the Hunger Games. On the day of the Reaping, Dean volunteers because it is expected of him. Dean is the best fighter. Then he meets Castiel at the Capitol and Dean doesn't know what to make of the boy, apart from the fact that he won't leave his head.**

It was the day of the Reaping. They had the day off from training, to prepare themselves. Dean Winchester stood at the garden outside his house. In an hour they would, they would make their way to the centre of the district, where one girl and boy would be expected to volunteer as tribute. In District 2, Dean Winchester would be expected to volunteer. Because Dean was John Winchester's son, because Dean had an instinct for survival. Because Dean was the best.

Dean heard the rustling of leaves and his body tensed. But it was only Sam. Dean's body relaxed, but not completely. But that was simple force of habit.  
>"Hey." Sam said quietly.<br>Sam was one of the reasons Dean would volunteer. As John Winchester's sons, one of them was expected to volunteer this year. And Sammy couldn't do it. The kid was squeamish about killing animals. He would die in there and both of them knew it. Which was why John Winchester had Dean trained from a young age. He was going to volunteer as tribute when the time came. He would do it for his brother, for John, for the district. And he would win.  
><em>Or die,<em>Dean had thought bitterly. It had seemed unfair that his life was planned out for him, that he was expected to kill for... what? District pride? To be a reminder to the people of Panem?  
>The people of Capitol were dicks.<br>Not that Dean was allowed to say that. No, it was always the Capitol did_this _and the Capitol did _that_. Dean hated it. Hated that he could be so easily controlled. That someone else had control over his life. Dean couldn't understand why everyone loved the Capitol so much. Yes, they were particularly generous to them. They were often called the 'pets' of the Capitol from other districts. Dean did not take this as a compliment. The Capitol took their _children _from them. Nothing they could ever give would make Dean forgive them of that.  
>"Dean..." Sam started.<br>"Sammy, I know what you're going to say, so save it." Dean said gruffly, not wanting to have this talk _again_.  
>"Dean, you don't have to do this."<br>"Yes, I do! Jesus, Sammy, don't you get it?" Dean burst out, "I _have _to so do this. You're under some crazy impression that we have a fucking _choice_. If I don't do it, then you could be picked, or some poor sap who doesn't have my training, who would probably end up dead! This is what my whole life has been for, so I _don't have a choice, _Sam. There's more important things at stake here then my life."  
>"Like what?" Sam snapped back.<br>"Dad's reputation! District unity! You know they decide every year who gets to volunteer. Every family has a chance. This year, it's our turn and I've been picked. So do not expect me to let down my father and my district. When you think about it, it's fair. We get to pick a kid. We train them so they don't lose." Dean felt like his father, saying those words. It was not something he liked but he had to make Sam understand that he could do nothing about this. It was out of his control.  
>Sam had his bitch face on and Dean internally groaned. God, the kid was stubborn.<br>"Sounds about right." An older male voice came. Both boys whipped around. John Winchester stood before them, wearing an expensive suit. Sam looked furious but Dean quickly changed his expression to impassive and respectful.  
>"I hope you weren't trying to convince Dean to not volunteer." John said, knowing very well that was <em>exactly <em>what Sam was doing.  
>Sam opened his mouth but Dean squeezed his arm. <em>Shut up, kid.<em>  
>Sam snapped his mouth shut, shot his father a look that could kill and stalked back into the house. John looked at his son and Dean looked back without flinching. Satisfied, John smiled.<br>"Your brother just doesn't understand. Your suit is in your bedroom. You should start getting ready." John turned around and left and Dean stared after him silently, when all he wanted to do was scream,_"I DON'T UNDERSTAND, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?"_

* * *

><p>Dean stood with his head held high during the Reaping. When the announcer asked for volunteers, Dean looked at John, who gave him an encouraging nod. Dean volunteered in a clear voice and everyone clapped and cheered.<br>_I might be walking to my death, you bastards._  
>Layla Adams volunteered as the girl tribute. They shook hands and Dean knew that if it came down to it, they would kill each other.<br>They were marched off to a room, where Dean waited for his visitors.  
>The first person who walked through the door was Sam. Dean didn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect his brother to pin him against wall.<br>"Promise me you'll win." Sam growled.  
>"Jeez, Sammy-"<br>"_Promise me you'll win."_  
>"I promise." Dean choked out. Sam had the advantage of being taller then him and, well, being his brother.<br>Sam let him go and pulled him into a bear hug, crushing the breathe out of him.  
><em>Holy mother of Je-<em>  
>Sam let go of Dean.<br>"You're coming back."  
>"Of course he is." John Winchester said, looking calm. His serenity angered Dean. But it was Sam who decided to do something about it.<br>"Fuck you. You just sent your son out to be killed," Sam's voice was deadly quiet, "I hope you're happy. But let me tell you something. If he doesn't come back, if he dies in that arena, his blood will be on _your _hands. I intend to kill my brother's murderer."  
>Sam walked out, leaving the threat hanging in the air. The threat on his life had shook John, because they knew Sam would do it. Because Sam cared for his brother more then anything else in the world.<br>"That boy needs anger management classes." John finally said. Dean nodded, maybe because he didn't now what to say or do. His father gave him a short hug and told him he would do fine. The next visitor was his trainer. They went over all the tactics and he was once again congratulated. The last guest was unexpected. Chuck Shurley came through the door, looking awkward and out of place. Dean just looked at him. Chuck extended his arm.  
>"Sam told me to give you this."<br>Dean took the amulet that hung from his hand. It looked ancient, but Sam had given it to him as a keeps-sake.  
>"It's supposed to keep people safe." Chuck said.<br>"No offence, buddy, but I don't think some necklace will help me much." Dean said, but he put it on anyway.  
>"Probably not. But if it counts for anything, I think you'll win either way." Chuck left.<br>It counted. 

* * *

><p>The Capitol was huge. It was stunning in a futuristic way, leaving Dean overwhelmed. It had not taken long to get to the Capitol. When they arrived, Dean saw the citizens waving and cheering at them and it took all Dean had not to just flip them off. Their mentor, Bobby Singer, had explained to them the concept of sponsors. Dean felt sure he could do it. He was a charmer. He just didn't feel very... likeable at the moment.<br>They get off the train and are rushed to the remake centre. Dean was dreading this part of the day. He was ushered into a room and told that his stylist would be with him shortly. Dean hoped he wouldn't punch his stylist.  
>Dean had to wait about 10 minutes before a boy wandered in. About his age, maybe younger, with dark hair and startling blue eyes. On his cheekbone was a thin design in a blue that brought out the colour of his eyes. His head was tilted and he was just staring at Dean in a way that made him feel exposed.<br>"You lost?" Dean asked.  
>"No. I know this place very well." The boy's voice was deeper then Dean had expected and sent an unexpected shiver down him.<br>Dean waiting for him to continue but the boy just looked over him he checking him out?  
>"What're you doing in here?" The words came out harsher then Dean had expected.<br>"I am your stylist."  
>Dean waited for him to laugh, say he was joking, because he had to be kidding, right? Nothing came.<br>"Oh. Sorry. Aren't you a little on the young side to be a stylist?"  
>"I'm a child prodigy." the boy blinked.<br>"Wow, modest much?"  
>"Modesty has nothing to do with this. It's a fact."<br>"Right..." Dean trails off, unsure of what to make of the strange boy.  
>"The best stylist for the best tribute." the boy said it like it was something he had memorized.<br>"Alright, Best Stylist, do you have a name?"  
>"Castiel. Now strip."<br>Dean choked up.  
>"What?"<br>"Take off your clothes." Castiel said slowly.  
>"What, why?" Dean said the words more louder then he had wanted.<br>"I have to evaluate you, I can't do it if you're covered." Castiel tilted his head and looked at him as though he was already undressing him with his eyes. When Dean didn't move, Castiel sighed.  
>"You may keep your under garment if you wish."<br>"Gee, thanks." Dean said dryly but started taking off his clothes. When he was done, he folded them and kept them in a corner, leaving his boxers on. He stood still as Castiel circled him, taking in every part of him. He occasionally ran a finger along his shoulder or some other part of his body and it was only due to the extreme training that Dean had undergone that his body didn't react. Because, dammit, it should be _illegal _what Castiel's fingers were making him feel. Weren't they torturing him enough?  
>After a while, Castiel started taking measurements.<br>"So, Castiel, you gonna watch the Hunger Games?" Dean asked, half out of curiosity, half to distract himself from the fact that Castiel's hands were on his thigh.  
>"It is obligatory, is it not?"<br>"Huh."  
>"That doesn't mean I'll enjoy it."<br>"Why not?" Dean was under the impression that the Capitol liked the Hunger Games.  
>"Because it is cruel and evil of the Capitol to intimidate the country by taking their children. It's wrong." Castiel stated, leaving Dean staring at him.<br>"You can't just say stuff like that." Dean said, but started laughing. Castiel frowned.  
>"Why not?"<br>"Maybe so you don't get blown up to smithereens?"  
>"I don't understand that reference."<br>For some reason, Dean couldn't stop laughing. Because in front of him was this boy, who apparently had no filter in his brain, who was from the Capitol and yet did not agree with the Capitol.  
>"Oh, buddy. You really need to get a filter."<br>"A filter for what?"  
>That sent Dean into another round of laughter, which got him an "is he insane?" look from Castiel.<br>Then Castiel started talking about clothes and ideas and what did he think about some outlandish idea of an outfit? Dean stopped listening to him after a while, just watching his graceful movements and the confidence in which he carried himself. For some reason, this boy whom he met not an hour ago fascinated him. His momentary peace was broken when a man perhaps of 25 came striding in.  
>"That girl is a nuisance!" he had a clipped accent, nothing like the ones Dean had heard in his life.<br>"Balthazar, just make her look pretty." Castiel said absently, not wavering his attention from Dean.  
>"Make her look pretty! Well, Cassy, I would but she is <em>so bloody annoying.<em>"  
>"Dean, meet my partner, Balthazar. He's working on the girl from your district." Castiel said when it became evident that Balthazar wasn't going to leave until he finished his rant.<br>"You got the boy. You're so lucky. He's a looker."  
>"I'm right here." Dean said.<br>"And I'm complimenting you, you twat. A thank you would be nice." Balthazar snapped and walked out of the room.  
>"Did I do something...?"<br>"Balthazar doesn't like people who tell him what to do." Castiel took a step back and ran an eye over him again. Then he gave him the smallest of smiles.

**A/N: Reviews are love :)**


	2. Let the Hunger Games begin

**Title: Where they hung up a man, they say murdered three****  
><strong>**Author: ****  
><strong>**Rating: NC-17****  
><strong>**Word count: 2300 +****  
><strong>**Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Balthazar (Supernatural).****  
><strong>**Warning/ Triggers: Torture, child abuse, oppression, sadism****  
><strong>**Spoilers: None****  
><strong>**Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor am I making any money out of this.****  
><strong>**Summery: Dean Winchester is a Career tribute, trained his whole life to take part in the Hunger Games. On the day of the Reaping, Dean volunteers because it is expected of him. Dean was trained to be the best fighter. Then he meets Castiel at the Capitol and he doesn't know what to make of the boy, apart from the fact that he won't leave his head.**

**{A/N: Hi! As I was originally posting this on livejournal, I was thinking about completing the whole thing before putting the rest up. I forgot I didn't have to do that with FanFiction (yes, me dumdum). Thank you for the reviews! Enjoy.}**

"Your chariot awaits you," Balthazar made an emphasized gesture of bowing down. Dean shot him a death glare which would have scare anyone else shitless but Balthazar looked back lazily.  
>"Save it for the arena, big boy."<br>"Where Castiel?" Dean demanded. Castiel was probably the only person he was remotely comfortable with.  
>"Darling Cassy is off doing... something, how should I know, am I his keeper?" Balthazar fixed Layla's outfit. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his own. Sheets of cold metal, beaten thin, covered him. Most of it was black, but there were gold outlines here and there, which made him look lethal and polished. Like a weapon. It was simple. Dean had to admit, it did make him look intimidating.<p>

Layla looked gorgeous. Deadly. Her black hair was swept back and she wore an impassive expression, one Dean knew well.  
>Then Castiel waltzed into the room and Dean forgot all about Layla.<br>"What took you so long?"  
>"I had things to do. Okay, so this is the moment. Now, being from District 2, you probably already have a lot of willing sponsors. I want you to look fierce, intimidating, confident. Hold your head up high. Give a cold smile. The works." Castiel said, looking between Dean and Layla. Both of them nodded.<br>"Also, stay..." Castiel made a gesture with his hands, as though he were molding something. He couldn't seem to find the right word.  
>"Superficially intact. That goes for you too, sweetheart." Balthazar filled, smiling a mocking smile. Layla smiled back at him, with a look that said that if he wasn't her stylist, she'd have his head by now.<br>"We have an interview after your training, so please, no bruises or lumps." Castiel looked them over.  
>"Try to keep the showing off to a minimum." That came from Balthazar. Of course.<br>"We have to show off our talent. That's the point of the assessment." Dean said  
>"I was talking to the girl." Balthazar smirked but his expression turned to one of horror as Layla shoved him against the door of their chariot, a deadly look in her eyes.<br>"Look it, you spoilt brat, my body is not something you have control over, and my pain is quite evidently your amusement. I might be dead in 2 weeks, so I am not going to take any of your bullshit. You had better treat me with some respect." Layla growled out. She let him go and stalked off, saying something about needing water. Dean stared after her. In the few days he had spent in Layla's company, she was determined and lethal. She came off as a confident girl, as though her death never crossed her mind. She was reserved and Dean realized he never really knew her.  
>"Bloody hell." Balthazar dusted himself.<br>"You should apologize." Castiel suggested mildly. Balthazar looked affronted at the very thought.  
>"ME? Apologize to her. It's not my fault everything I say or do annoys her." Balthazar shook his head and walked off, Castiel staring after him.<br>"We need to leave soon." he muttered. He turned around and ran a hand along Dean's chest and arms, making sure everything was in place.  
>Dean saw Balthazar and Layla returning, pointedly looking away from each other.<br>"Stay safe. See you in a while." Castiel said, smiling at Dean.

In the next few days, Dean trained vigorously. He brushed up on every art of survival he had ever learned. He tied knots, ran fast, and did everything he could to train his body into reacting with instinct. On the 2nd day, he was approached by the tributes of district 1 and 4, with the proposal of forging an alliance. He had been told this would happen. He didn't see any point of it. If, by the end, only they remained, he'd have to kill his 'allies'. But his trainer and Bobby had told him to agree. So he agreed. Now wasn't exactly the ideal time to start making his own decisions.  
>After that, they trained together, testing each other's limits, refusing to show weakness. They also agreed not to show their specialty skill, the one advantage they had over others.<br>Dean's was his reflex actions, his ability to move quickly. He wasn't the smartest but at least his body knew what to do. If he knew anything, it was to survive. After all, he was thrown into make shift arenas since the age of 10. The Games may not have been real, but the fire definitely started burning after his 15th birthday. He had been through 70 arenas. Of course, back then his opponents were armatures.  
>Dean sized up all the tributes. Few struck him as threats.<br>Alastair, the boy from 1, with a thirst for blood. Ruby, girl from 3, never missed. Meg, girl from 6, was cunning. Henri, boy from 11, could climb and was good with traps. Layla could run like the wind.  
>On the night after the assessment, Dean found Layla, fighting a dummy with everything she had. For a moment, he just watched her. Her aims were sharp, her body moving with fluidity, relentlessly hitting.<br>"Do you watch me sleep as well?" She said. He looked at her and smiled.  
>"That's a lot of pent up anger." He comments, sitting on the window sill. "I pity the person who fights you in the Games."<br>"In the Games," she kicks the dummy, "I will just snap their necks."  
>"What're you angry at?"<br>Layla doesn't answer but glanced upwards. Dean understood. Their words weren't private.  
>"Hey, I need to cool off. Let's go to the roof. It's really windy."<br>Dean nodded. Wind meant noise. Noise that would cover their voices.  
>They made their way to the roof in silence. When it reached there, Dean realized the noise wasn't solely the wind. No, down in the Capitol, people were celebrating.<br>"Happy Hunger Games." Layla said bitterly.  
>Dean snorted. Happy Hunger Games indeed.<br>"You were asking why I'm angry. This. We kill and die for their entertainment. That's why in the Games, I'll kill whom I have to kill in the fastest way possible. We were taught to be efficient."  
>Dean realized something about Layla then. She didn't have blood thirst. Just a lot of anger.<br>"Well, I don't know about efficient, but the way Alastair looks at the others, I'd expect there to blood. Lots of it." Dean commented.  
>"I wanted to talk to you about that. I've been thinking and... I think we should break out allegiance with the others."<br>"What?" Dean looked at Layla like she was out of her mind. They had been given clear instructions.  
>"I don't think they're trust worthy. I mean, none of them are, but the Careers more than anyone. The way Alastair looks at us, and the other tributes, like he wouldn't hesitate a minute to kill us. I don't trust him to not kill us the first night."<br>Dean had gotten that impression but he was confident that he could beat Alastair. Hopefully.  
>"So you don't want to be allies?" Dean asked, just to be clear.<br>"I don't mind being allies with you. Its them I don't want to be with." Layla looked at him, her demeanor business-like.  
>"So, you're saying that WE should break the allegiance?"<br>"If you want. We have to have terms, of course."  
>"Like what?"<br>"Well, for one, if we're one of the last six standing, we part ways. I don't want to have to kill you, Dean." She looked him right in the eye and he knew she was being sincere.  
>"I don't want to have to kill you either." Dean said and Layla smiled like he had given her the biggest compliment. He probably had.<br>"You two done being mushy?" Bobby Singers rough voice made them jump.  
>"How long have you been here?"<br>"Long enough. I have to tell you, your plan to break the allegiance is stupid."  
>Dean noticed the bottle of liquor in his hand. He didn't seem drunk, though.<br>"Well, I think it makes sense." Layla said defiantly. Bobby sighed.  
>"Do what you want, girl. Once you're in that arena, you do whatever you think is right. Just stay alive."<br>Dean turned back to Layla.  
>"Your other terms?"<br>"Swift killing. If we're down to the last 6, we go in opposite directions. No sneaky plans or whatever goes on in that pretty head of yours while we're together."  
>Dean nodded.<br>"I can work with that."  
>"You two better kick ass at the interview tomorrow. You're going to need all the sponsors you can get." Bobby reminded them gruffly.<br>Dean nodded. He had his performance down pat. Fierce, but charming. A winner. Everyone loves a winner.  
>"Castiel and Balthazar will be waiting for you. Get up early, understand." Bobby left. A small smile played on Dean's lips, but a frown was forming on Layla's forehead.<p>

That night, Dean slept peacefully, better than he had in a while. He didn't know why, after all, he was heading towards possible death. But for some reason, he slept, slept until a pillow roughly hit his face.  
>His first thought was that he was being suffocated. His mind quickly caught up with the fact that the pillow was thrown at him, not being held down, so it wasn't life threatening. His eyes sought the culprit and Layla's emerald eyes looked mischievously at him. She reached out and whipped his covers away. Dean thanked whatever entity existed that he had chosen to wear boxers.<br>"Get up, sleepy head. Castiel and Balthy dear are waiting for us." She left the room with his covers trailing after her. Dean narrowed his eyes at the now empty doorway and shuffled out of bed. He showered and shaved and stumbled down the corridor, pulling at the knots in his muscles, warming up his body.  
>Dean entered the room and saw Castiel fretting over his suit. It was sleek and elegant and white. There was silk piping with something that glittered green every time Castiel moves the suit.<br>"The green will bring out the colour of your eyes." Is how Castiel acknowledges his presence in the room.  
>"So, ready for the interview?" Castiel turned around. Dean's eyes immediately fell on his tattoo.<br>"Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be."  
>Castiel gave him a small smile. Then he pulled up a chair. "Sit."<br>"What're you going to do?" Dean asked suspiciously.  
>"You're going up in front of a whole nation, all of whom are obligated to watch you. You need to look presentable."<br>Dean spread his arms.  
>"I'm fine. See, no bruises or cuts."<br>"Presentable for the camera." Castiel corrected himself.  
>Dean sat down on the chair, already feeling a sense of forbading.<p>

"I hate you." Dean said as he softly pressed the tender skin on his forehead.  
>"Stop being such a wussy, take it like a man." Balthazar said.<br>Balthazar and Layla had joined them a few moments ago, Layla all dressed up and looking like a female gladiator. A flowing gold dress wrapped around her artfully, killer heels and black curls half tumbling, half pulled up. She looked beautiful and fiercely stunning. Dean had to applaud Balthazar's talent. He managed to her look feminine but fear inducing. Brought out an emphasis on the fact that just because she was a girl didn't mean that she had to be over looked.  
>Currently, the stylist and tribute were on either side of the room, with Layla beside Dean, sitting atop a table and Balthazar by the door, watching her every move to make sure 'she doesn't mess up my baby' as he put it. But Dean felt it was more than that. There was a hint of fascination in his gaze. Like she was a puzzle he hadn't figured out yet.<br>Castiel gently removed Dean's hand and Dean's eyes shifted to his own stylist. Soft fingers gently smeared a cool paste on his forehead. The burning stopped and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He caught Cas's eye and gave him a grateful smile. Castiel smiled back.  
>"Oh, God, stop the eye-sexing." Layla's voice carried an inappropriate amount of amusement. Balthazar let out a laugh and Dean shot Layla a look. Castiel, on the other hand, just looked confused.<br>"What are you talking about?" Cas tilted his head.  
>"Ah, my sweet innocent. Nothing. Come along, sweetheart. You're up before Deano."<br>Layla smiled at Dean and followed Balthazar out.  
>"But, I don't understand, what is eye-sexing?"<br>Dean bit back a laugh.

The interviews breezed by. After all, both Dean and Layla had been trained for a long time for this. It had gone without a hitch. Not because they were naturally charming, but because this had been drilled into their minds for the past 6 years.  
>Before they knew it, they were off the hovercraft, with trackers in them and nervously waiting for the Games to begin.<br>**Half an hour.**  
><span>Dean paced the room, stretching his muscles.<span>  
><strong>20 minutes.<strong>  
><em>Layla knotted her hair around her finger but Balthazar slapped her hand away.<em>  
><strong>10 minutes.<strong>  
><span>Dean was surprised by Cas's hand on his shoulder. He realized two thing.<span>  
><span>One, he had started calling Castiel Cas without noticing.  
><span>Two, he was going to miss the awkward, clueless boy.  
><strong>5 minutes.<strong>  
><em>"Ready?" Balthazar asked.<em>_  
><em>_Layla shook her head. She'd never be fully prepared for this._  
><strong>3 minutes.<strong>  
><span>Cas gave Dean a reassuring smile.<span>  
><span>"You can do this."  
><strong>2 minutes.<strong>  
><em>"I don't know if I can do this." Nerves were getting to her, making her move with a slight tremble.<em>  
><strong>1 minute.<strong>  
><span>Dean made his way to the patch of steel that would lift him into the arena.<span>  
><strong>30 seconds.<strong>  
><em>Balthazar grabbed Layla's shoulder.<em>_  
><em>_"You can do this. I'm betting on you. Well. If I could. Hypothetically. That's a load of money and you're not making me lose it."__  
><em>_Layla smirked, not allowing him to know that his words brought back her confidence.__  
><em>_"Hypothetically."__  
><em>_Balthazar nodded and shocked her by placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then he pushed her into the patch and she felt her body freeze._  
><strong>15 seconds<strong>.  
><span>"Dean." Dean had no option but to look at Cas, seeing as he couldn't move.<span>  
><span>"I'll be waiting."  
><strong>10 seconds<strong>.  
><em>"Hey, sweetheart."<em>  
><strong>9 seconds.<strong>  
><span>Dean smiled.<span>  
><strong>8 seconds.<strong>  
><em>Layla looked at Balthazar.<em>  
><strong>7 seconds.<strong>  
><span>Blue eyes met his green ones.<span>  
><strong>6 seconds.<strong>  
><em>"Don't die."<em>  
><strong>5.<strong>  
>Glass doors slid between the tributes and their stylists.<br>**4.**  
><span>Dean tensed, getting ready.<span>  
><strong>3.<strong>  
><em>The plate began to move. Layla got one last look at Balthazar.<em>  
><strong>2.<strong>  
><span>Rocks. Dean saw rocks.<span>  
><strong>1.<strong>  
><em>Layla registered the other tributes. She caught Dean's eye and nodded towards the weapons and packs. He nodded.<em>  
><strong>BOOM.<strong>  
>The canon fired and suddenly, there was blood and chaos everywhere.<br>Let the Hunger Games begin.  
>_<strong>AN: Just wanted to say that I went by the whole process before the Games rather quickly. For more details, read the books (obviously), or send me a message. I'm more then willing to explain. ****  
><strong>**Feedback is appreciated, as is constructive criticism. ****  
><strong>**Thank you.**


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